Cruel Paradise (Oryolov Bratva Book 1)

It’s taken me seven days of brooding, but I’m finally sure.

I don’t want a wife—not after I saw what losing one did to my father. But I do need an heir.

And Emma is the perfect solution.

There’s only one problem: how do I package this in a way that will prevent her from slapping me and walking out on our entire agreement?

She’s sitting on the bed right now, balancing her wine glass in one hand while she admires the view. The first few buttons on her white silk blouse are undone, giving me a bird’s-eye view of her sexy black bra. Her breasts are practically spilling out of them.

There’s a nagging worry in the back of my head. One that’s warning me that this night might be our last night together. If Emma finds my proposition insulting, there’s nothing I can do to stop her from shredding our contract and leaving.

That’s the last thing I want.

“You’re deep in thought tonight,” she remarks. She puts her wine glass down and leans back on the bed with her elbows.

I walk over, my eyes never leaving hers. “I’d rather be deep in you.”

“Cringe!” she laughs. Then her smile turns into something sly and seductive. “Well? What are you waiting for?”

She sits up and starts unbuckling my pants. She strips me down, peeling off each layer until I’m standing naked in front of her. She swallows hard, her hands running over my abs. I grab her wrist and pull her to her feet, switching places with her.

She stands between my legs like the sultry, obedient goddess she is and waits patiently while I undress her. I go slow. Take my time, enjoying the rustle of fabric over her skin as it’s bared to me inch by delicious inch. I twist her around before I remove her skirt and then watch with my breath caught in my chest as I pull the zipper down one tooth at a time.

When she’s naked, I drop my lips to her ass cheek and give it a little bite. She yelps but I hold her in place and press my lips against the same spot to smooth away the pain. She shivers, her eyes finding mine over her shoulder. I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her down onto the bed with me. When she tries to turn around, I stop her.

“No,” I growl. “You’re going to ride me like this.”

I stare at her perfect ass, adjusting her so that her pussy is poised over my cock. She’s already wet but I tease her with my fingers from behind until she’s dripping. It’s a perfect fucking view—that pink, perfect pussy framed by that gorgeous ass of hers, her knees planted on either side of my hips, the long, smooth expanse of her back glowing in the moonlight through the window.

When my fingers are coated in her juices, I grab her hips and guide her down onto my cock. She cries out, wriggling against my girth. I slap her ass hard.

“Take it slow, baby,” I command. “Ride me.”

Her ass bobs up and down, back arching while she moans. If it weren’t for my fear that this might be our last night together, I could come right now. Instead, I grab her hair and pull it back until she’s forced to change her rhythm, thrusting her hips back and forth. She chases down her orgasm and when she explodes on my cock, her ass jiggles with the strength of her tremors.

She dips forward as I pull out of her but I’m not interested in giving her a moment to catch her breath. I flip her onto her back, haul myself on top, and bury my face between her legs.

“Ruslan!” she cries as her hand lands on my head.

I push my tongue into her pussy and drag it up until I find her clit. Then I bear down, circling and sucking until she’s screaming and slamming her fists against the bed.

“Fuck, yes, yes… ahh, Ruslan… I can’t… fuck…!”

I don’t let up until she’s coming, her body tightening with every swirl of my tongue. By the time I wipe the wetness from my mouth, her eyes are fluttering closed, her breasts heaving up and down, her skin flushed and peppered with goosebumps.

Only when I mount her do her eyes flare open. There’s a dreamy look in them when she smiles at me. She brushes the back of her hand against my jaw. “You’re so handsome…”

I push her legs apart with my knee, my cock sliding up and down her dripping pussy. She shudders. “Ruslan…”

“Yes, baby?”

Her eyelashes flutter. “I don’t think I can handle another orgasm.”

“Hm…” I run my lips over her jaw, along her neck and towards her ear. “I’m afraid you don’t have a choice.”

I bite down on her lobe as I push inside her again. Her mouth pops open into a perfect O. She’s probably not gonna be able to walk tomorrow.

Good. She can sit down and think about my proposition.

Either way, I want her body sore and aching for days after this night. I want to leave my imprint on her body; I want to leave my scent on her skin. I want to show her exactly what she’s giving up if she chooses to walk away from this.

I watch her tits bounce as I pump into her wildly. “Who do you belong to?” I demand through gritted teeth.

She’s so busy moaning and screaming that she doesn’t answer. So I repeat myself, louder this time.

“I’m not gonna stop until I hear you say it. Who do you belong to?”

Her eyes find mine. She looks wild, completely undone. Hair flying untamed, eyes bright with lust, cheeks flush with fire. “You,” she gasps. “Only you.”

“Good girl,” I growl, increasing the speed and strength of my thrusts as reward.

Her screams spur me on faster and faster. I’m not sure how, but somewhere between her orgasm and mine, I find our hands interlinked, fingers entwined together, gripping tight. I’m balls-deep inside of her—and yet holding hands is a million times more intimate. It reminds of the first night we did this, when I kissed her while we fucked. There’s a line being crossed. One I never saw coming, but I’m helpless to stop myself from soaring right across it.

When I finish coming, I collapse, careful not to put all my weight on top of her.

“Good Lord,” Emma gasps. “That was… intense.”

She’s right. It was intense.

But it only makes me greedy for more.

“This ice cream is straight-up sinful.”

She’s wearing one of my t-shirts, her legs stretched across the sofa towards me. I’m tempted to take her feet and plop them on my lap, but like the hand-holding when we were having sex, the consequences of a gesture like that is giving me pause.

It’s not that I don’t want to do it.

It’s that I know that I already let my inner beast out of the cage at the gala and it ended up in a fucking headache. Fuck knows what kind of consequences it would bring if I unhooked it from its leash again.

“Okay!” Emma slams the lid back on the ice cream container and hands it to me. “Take it away or else I won’t stop.”

After the first three orgasms I’d given her, we took a half-hour break. Then I’d fucked her mouth before carrying her into the kitchen to spread her out on the marble counter. We ended up in the living room where, two orgasms later, she informed me that she was in danger of fainting if she didn’t get some sugar in her body immediately.

Strangely, despite the workout I’ve just had, I’m not hungry at all. The only thing I’m craving is her.

Still.

“I should get going—”

“No.”

She falls back against the arm of the sofa. “No?”

“There’s something I want to discuss with you before you leave.”

One eyebrow drifts upward. “Okay. Discuss away.”

“But before I tell you what’s on my mind, it’s important that you know exactly who I am. And what I do.”

She nods slowly, hesitantly. “Should I be nervous?”

“I’d just be attentive.”

She tries to return the smile but doesn’t quite manage. “Go on.”

“Bane Corp. was founded by my grandfather almost seventy years ago. It was a tiny security company that he was hoping would be the perfect façade to hide what the family really did. What we still do.”

She gulps, pulling her legs up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. “Oh my God… the rumors are true then?”

I shrug. “Depends on which rumor you’re talking about.”

“The ones that claim you’re somehow tied to the mafia.”

“Yes and no. Our roots are Russian. We aren’t mafia; we’re Bratva. We don’t have dons; we have pahkans. And I’m not ‘tied to the Bratva’; I am the Bratva.”

She stares back at me. The color has drained from her face and all breathing has come to a screeching halt.

I give her a moment. It’s the kind of revelation that requires a little processing time.

“B-Bratva…” she repeats as if she’s trying the word on for size. “Wow, that’s really… something.”

I snort. “That’s all you have to say?”

She throws her hands up. “Well, I’m not sure what the correct response is when the guy you’re sleeping with tells you he’s a mafia don!”

“Bratva pahkan.”

She takes a deep breath and then starts chewing on the inside of her cheek. The last time she did that also happened to be the first night we kicked off the contract. I’m hoping this isn’t a book-end sort of situation.

“I guess… it’s not a huge shock,” she admits. “Like I said, there were rumors. I didn’t really pay them all that much attention. Now, I wish I had.”

“I am a dangerous man, Emma. I won’t deny it.” I make sure to look her in the eye. “But I just want you to know that I’m not dangerous to you. Or your family.”

She holds my gaze and nods. “I think I already know that.” Her voice is barely above a whisper.

There it is—that burgeoning sense of hope. That naive little voice saying, This could work…

“Thank you for telling me,” she says.

“I had to tell you. I wanted you to have all the information before you made your decision.”

The anxiety is back. I can tell from the new lines on her forehead. “What decision?”

I decide to just tear off the bandage. “I want to add an addendum to our contract.”

She stiffens. “What kind of addendum?”

“Given my role as pahkan, I’m required to ensure the continuity of the Oryolov name.” She doesn’t really move, but her eyebrows twitch. She looks confused. Rip off the fucking bandage, you coward. “I want to add a baby clause to our contract.”

“I’m sorry—did you just say ‘baby clause’?” Her mouth drops. She and Josh definitely have that in common, that same you-have-got-to-be-fucking-kidding me face. “Y-you… you want me to have your baby?”

“As I said, I need an heir. And since our contract has worked well so far, I figured I’d put it to you and see where you stand. Just so you know, if you agree to this, I will make sure you and the baby are well provided for. That goes for the kids, too. Josh, Reagan, and Caroline will want for nothing as long as they live. I’ll take care of their education, their medical bills, their clothes and shoes and whatever else.” She’s blinking rapidly, her eyes darting over my face again and again. I wonder if she’s even getting half of what I’m throwing at her. But since this might be my only chance to convince her, I keep going. “In addition, I will set you up in a new place. Somewhere large enough that every child has a room of their own. Somewhere with space for them to run. I will also give you an additional monthly stipend until the baby turns eighteen to use as you see fit. It will not be an insignificant amount.”

She exhales sharply. “That is… a lot to process.”

“You don’t have to give me an answer now. Take some time and think about it.”

She meets my gaze for a fleeting moment. “And what if I say no?”

I try not to let my body betray me. So I force myself to remain relaxed, unbothered, even though the caveman in my chest is beating a drum and howling like a fucking lunatic. “Our original contract will still stand whether you accept this new clause or not.”

She nods.

“But—” That causes her to flinch, her eyes colliding once again with mine. “—should you decide you want out of the contract altogether, I will release you with the promised severance package. I will even help you get another job.”

Her eyebrows knit together and her mouth comes down at the corners. She doesn’t seem wild about the fact that I’m willing, at least on the surface, to let her go so easily.

Hope kindles in my gut.

Maybe that can work in my favor.

Maybe there’s a way for me to get everything I want.